Hamliza Flower Shop
by Lily-Maria-Rodriguez
Summary: A flower shop au because I'm not original. Hamliza because I love them, God damn it.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: As for ages, Alex is in grad school, Eliza is his age. The ending is really cheesy, sorry not sorry. Perhaps a one shot, maybe not. All rights to Lin-Manuel Miranda. Review? I love suggestions. Happy Valentine's!

Eliza watched her customer go. It was the busy season, when people flooded in for flowers for their significant others. Her roses were almost gone, but that was okay, considering it would all be over tomorrow. She found herself almost a little mournful, alone for another Valentine's day. She walked around, wiping the last corner of the counter and moving She left the counter to go flip the sign around when she came face to face with someone looking through the glass door.

She opened the door for him, her cute little bell ringing as a man stepped inside. He was attractive, with long hair pushed back into a ponytail. He wore a green jacket with jeans, hands shoved inside his pockets to combat the chill.

"Hello, welcome to Eliza's Flowers. I am… Eliza," she said uncomfortably. Eliza would be tempted to flirt, but everybody who walked in her doors was taken.

"Hi," he smiled at her, "I'm sorry, these aren't your hours."

"Not at all," she replied, finding herself blushing ever so slightly. She couldn't help it, being in the presence of somebody she found attractive. So what if Eliza was a helpless romantic?

"Oh, um, Alexander," he introduced himself, offering his hand to shake, which she did, for perhaps a second too long. He either didn't notice or pretended not to.

Eliza rushed behind the counter, pushing the little swinging gate open with her hip in order to push the sleeves of her heart sweater, settling behind the counter. She found herself with ther elbows on the smooth white countertop, leaning over, "What'll it be?"

He looked at the sign showing the various Valentine's arrangements, "The big flower ring in a heart shape, I think the number eight?" He asked.

"Yep, coming right up," Eliza paused, "it's in the back," she turned around to go to the back, "So, what's she like?"

"Um…" He tried.

Eliza stopped in her tracks, "Good God, I'm sorry. He? They?" She asked.

Alexander coughed, "Actually, it's for my Mom…"

Eliza cut him off when she had the arrangement in her arms, "Aww,"

"...s grave," he finished.

Eliza was standing before him, but was covering her face with the large heart, "I'm sorry," she replied, "I am so… sorry," she tried for another word, but nothing came into her head.

"Really, it's fine. She loved Valentine's day, and I thought I'd get this. I'm single, and you?" he asked her, taking the arrangement and laying it on the counter to fish inside of his pockets for the battered wallet.

"Oh, I'm in the same boat. I think it's an ice cream and The Notebook kind of Valentine's," she laughed, spilling her plans easily, "It's 25 dollars," she offered.

"I thought it said 30?" He replied, holding the last five in his hand questioningly.

"It's the five dollar 'not a terrible flirt like everyone else who buys this arrangement' discount. Or, it's just really sweet that you buy this for your mom," she told him.

Alexander chuckled, choosing to shove the last five in the tips jar, "Thanks,"

"And just sign the receipt." Eliza slid it across the counter to him, along with a pen with a large flower rubber banded to it.

A signature was scrawled in what appeared to be fast and hard handwriting. "Bye, Eliza, enjoy Ryan Gosling," he told her, walking out with his purchase.

Eliza paused, wondering what he was referencing. Oh, The Notebook. She laughed, trying to come up with a funny jibe to reply with, but he was out the door. Eliza glanced down at the receipt. His signature was messy, yet somehow elegant. Totally illegible. At the top, was a note.

Who says I'm not a flirt? Call me.

Alexander's number was written below it.

"Cheeky bastard," she murmured to herself, grinning. Eliza opened her phone, carefully copying the number into her phone. How long did one have to wait before excitedly texting? To seem not desperate, yet not disinterested.

Perhaps this wasn't going to be as dull a Valentine's day after all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm showing texting with a dash in front of it. If it's confusing, please tell me. This will be a multi chapter thing, but no promises on updates.

"Come on, guys! I forgot my keys, okay?" Alexander found himself yelling.

There were some murmuring on the other side of the apartment door. Alexander groaned. "Fine," he heard one of his roommates, Laurens, "You can come in. You're lucky I'm so nice," he opened the door.

Alexander jostled him, only a little, shoving his way through. As it turned out, all three of them were standing at the other end of the door, perhaps plotting some plan for the third time he had left them at home that week.

"Why do you look so happily?" Lafayette, who had only just moved from France, asked him.

"It's happy, and I don't know what you're talking about," Alex replied, finding his keys on the kitchen counter and shoving them inside his already ragged wallet.

"No, he's right," Herc put in, "Were you lying about where you were? Because we all thought you were at the cemetery."

Alex walked back over to the couch which he plopped down on, "I was. I went by this flower shop, picked up an arrangement, talked to the owner and cashier there, gave her my number. Nothing out of the ordinary," he told them.

Laughter rippled through his companions, "I see," Lafayette replied, "You couldn't bear to be single on Valentine's day,"

"So soon after me?" Laurens took up the pretense of being offended.

"Last time I checked, you dumped me," Alex replied, throwing whatever was in his back pocket in his general vicinity, which turned out to be a pen and three stretched out hairbands. It had been a rare case of exes being able to just be friends after it ended.

Herc had to add: "Even if Laurens did the dumping, he still cried more."

Laurens snorted, "Thanks. Alex, what flower shop was it? I didn't think they were even that popular anymore. It's nice that hers stayed open."

"I can't believe we ever thought you were straight," Lafayette told him, but turned his attention toward Alex to hear his answer.

"Eliza's Flowers, over by, um-" he was cut off.

"Did you get a last name?" Laurens asked, sitting up suddenly.

"No, why?"

"Because it's Schuyler, you idiot. Like the law student you've been flirting with's little sister," he told him, "She owns a flower shop or something like that, it has to be her."

"The senator's daughter," Alex breathed, "Oh my God. Angelica doesn't count, right? Like, I didn't just blow her off for her sister?" He answered his own question, "No, we're both flirting with a few people. Maybe each other the most seriously, but that doesn't matter. We're not dating."

There seemed to be a moment of silence before the other three started laughing again, "So the tomcat still can't keep it in his pants?" Laf asked, "Can't handle being single for too long, can you?"

* * *

Eliza had changed the moment she got home, into flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt, finding the pint of mint chip she had picked up on the way home. It was a long standing tradition for her and her two sisters that if they were single on Valentine's day, they got to pamper themselves.

Still, she would have preferred to be changing into a cute dress for a date, or receiving a box of chocolates from someone cute. She was a sucker for romance. Did people falling in love onscreen intertwined with incredibly corny lines count? It would have to suffice.

She ate the ice cream with little gusto, barely watching the movie, and opting instead to draft texts to Alexander. He seemed clever, so she would have to be witty, but not mean. Sweet, which wasn't hard for her considering it was an actual trait of hers. Was it too soon? She could text under the pretext of giving him her number. 'Being early and showing that you're interested is better than trying to be cool and waiting', was the advice Angelica had given her when she had her first relationship as a sophomore in high school, and it had stuck with her. She liked it, because she was excitable and wanted to show them her true self.

-Alexander, its Eliza. How are you?

She read it over and over again, deciding that it was too generic. What if this was one out of a dozen sending him this text? Besides, they met that day, asking him how he was would just be strange.

-Hi Alexander! It's Eliza from the flower shop. Enjoying your day of love all alone?

Eliza erased that almost immediately. From the flower shop? Did she have no self confidence? Besides, he went to a cemetery, he wouldn't have been enjoying himself.

-Hey, it's Eliza. Knowing what a singles Valentines look like, I imagine you're alone and on Netflix. I'd like to be in those old sweatpants, if you know what I mean.

She laughed at herself, knowing that she could never send that. Eliza dropped her phone while deleting it, turning to watch one of her personal favorite scenes. She felt her phone vibrate by her a minute later.

-Wow, a raunchy florist. Who would have guessed. :)

Eliza gasped. She sent the bad pickup line of all things. And he didn't mind. Or so he said.

-I didn't mean to send that! Though, if you don't mind…

Eliza waited with baited breath for his reply.

-Not to end the convo, but would you like to get coffee sometime?

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Yes! Yes, she would.

-I'd like that :)))

She sent it, but all the mouths on the smiley face felt stupid thirty seconds after. Well, he couldn't take it back now, at least.

-Do you know the one that's sort of by your shop, a block away from King's College? What does your work schedule look like? Your shop's open a lot, so I don't know when you're going to be available. (I talk a lot in every format- know that now) :)))))))))))

Eliza's grin somehow grew. He topped the absurd smiley face she had sent. He was perfect, she found herself thinking, before even knowing him. That was one good thing about being alone on Valentine's day. Everyone became a lot more willing. Still, she hoped there would be more than that.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Just so you know, the first part is Eliza, then it goes back in time a little to show Alex's morning. Thank you for your wonderful reviews, you lovely people. I love recommendations on any other ships (that don't include either of them, of course) or anything else for the story. I swear I'll add more characters soon. Thanks!

Her heart pounded. She leaned over the sink, checking once more for anything in her teeth, and straightened up. She adjusted her clothes from top to bottom; the jeans, short boots, blouse, and the knock-off sort of peacoat in a bright blue-teal color. Checking her phone and the time, Eliza exited the bathroom in the back of the shop.

'Bye, Eliza. Good luck on your date," the young college student she had as a part time employee bid her farewell.

"Oh, thanks. I should be back soon, but I'm sure you have it under control," Eliza slung her purse over one shoulder, waved goodbye, and left the shop.

The coffee shop was warm, and smelled of the warming drink and fresh baked goods. She looked around at him, his face crystal clear after only seeing him for fifteen minutes a week ago. Still, no sign of him. They hadn't spoken much since that first night, only making arrangements and the occasional flirtatious text, both probably wanting to save the first date conversation for real life. What if he was going to blow her off?

Hurriedly, Eliza dug around her purse, finding her phone at the bottom of receipts, loose dollar bills and coins, her makeup bag with most of her made up outside of the bag, a tiny sweater balled up and shoved in one corner, about a million hairbands, tampons, and pens. Needless to say, it was a bag on the definitive larger side. But what if he was just running late? Then it would be stupid to text him, seem whiny and horribly difficult. At ten minutes, maybe? No. Fifteen. Eliza moved to find a seat that would work to wait for him in.

"Hey sweetheart!" She heard a voice from behind her. Rolling her eyes at the name, she turned around.

"Yes," the voice belonged to the barista.

"No loitering. Order something, or go," he told her, glaring.

"I'm waiting for a date, actually," she replied, "He'll be here soon."

"Honey, he's standing you up. I don't see why, though. I'd take you," he continued, seemingly drunk, high, or sick with privilege. When he didn't get a response, he continued, "You got a rockin' bod, not super curvy or busty, actually a little flat, but I'd still take ya," he told her, now earning a few disapproving looks from various customers.

Eliza continued on, looking down at her phone, pretending to text or something. When would he be here? Was disgusting barista right? Did he find someone better? Prettier or smarter? The barista continued to call across the room, and the people who looked as if they were disturbed by it left. For some reason, there weren't a ton of people around, perhaps they were all at work on this weekday, and it was a little late for that. She occupied herself by thinking of her sister. What would Angelica do? She would have some sort of reply, witty, funny, scalding, powerful, brilliant. Perhaps all of the above. Probably all of the above. Once, when they had been catcalled when walking down the street and she faced the guy, giving what could only be called an impromptu speech. Eliza tried to remember the words, the sentiment, anything.

She turned to face the man, and saw him. Alexander. Finally. He looked out of breath, as if he could have ran there. He was late, and she wasn't going to let him off the hook, but there he was.

"Hey," she said to him, purposefully clearly in front of the barista to prove that her date was here, "You're late," she couldn't help but say.

"I'm sorry, I am, I-" he was cut off.

"Make lateness a one time thing," she replied.

Alexander grinned, "Do you want to go somewhere else? Away from this guy?" He asked.

"That sounds wonderful," she said, glancing at the barista and walking away without another word.

* * *

"Ham!" No reply. "Ham!" Again, no reply. "Alex!" Nothing. John groaned, getting up from where he saw on the couch sketching, walking into the "bedroom" that consisted only of a desk and mattress on the ground. Apparently, a bed wasn't a priority for his friend. There wasn't even a clock.

There he sat, typing madly, his face growing angrier by the second, a product of writing on something he was passionate about.

"Alex, you're gonna be late for your date," this wasn't new, making him stop working for just a second, taking a break from that damn political blog, or something like that to get to his own event. In fact, it was as regular as the daily news that he insisted on having on constantly while simultaneously tearing apart practically all of the different sources.

"What?" he asked, finally moving his eyes away, looking at the clock on the corner of the laptop screen, "oh," he stood up, not moving his fingers, but instead completing the sentence while standing up, then slamming it shut to move and change.

"Thanks, Laurens, for interrupting what you were doing in order to make sure I don't miss my date. You really are the best," John tried to mimic Alexander's voice.

"Yeah, thanks," he heard Alex reply with an audible eye roll from in the bathroom where he was hurriedly brushing his teeth. Then another yell, "No, Herc, I need the bathroom. You have to wait." The shower went on, then off in record speed, then it seemed that he was brushing his hair into a ponytail, towel dried only enough.

Then just like that, he was dressed and running toward the door.

"Have a good time," John told him, to which he got no reply except Alexander's rustling around the drawer. "Oh, I'll have a great day, thanks so much for your well wishing," he replied to the silence he received.

Alex arrived at the coffees hop late, but saw her immediately. She was hunched over, ignoring some asshole barista. She turned to say something, and saw him. They made eye contact. Her eyes crinkled at the ends when she smiled at him, offering a tiny and adorable wave. He waved back.

"Hey," he was greeted, "you're late."

Crap, Alexander thought. What if this was a deal breaker. His hurried apologies were cut off.

"Make lateness a one time thing," she told him.

Relief. It wasn't a deal breaker and it was okay. Thank god. "Do you want to go somewhere else? Away from this guy?" He asked her, wanting to take her hand, but both were on her purse.

"That sounds wonderful," she replied, smiling up at him sweetly. She had a wonderful smile that started at her eyes. Her eyes smiled first, then her mouth, then her cheeks joined in. That smile. He was starting to fall for that smile.


End file.
